


Five Times Walter and Paige Almost Kissed...And One Time They Did

by FoxPhile, WeBuiltThePyramids, WriterFreak001



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: A five times fic, F/M, five times in season one Walter and Paige could have/almost kissed, then that time in season two when they finally did
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-31 06:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6459472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxPhile/pseuds/FoxPhile, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeBuiltThePyramids/pseuds/WeBuiltThePyramids, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterFreak001/pseuds/WriterFreak001
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic is part of a collaboration between WeBuiltThePyramids, WriterFreak001 and FoxPhile inspired by discussions on the Scorpion FanFiction thread on FanForum.  Each author has written two stories that, together, make up the collection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot (Heidi)

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1. Walter is surprised at his reaction to a waitress whose son is a genius. Takes place during the events of Episode 1.01 Pilot. A "5 Things" fic collaboration by WeBuiltThePyramids, WriterFreak001 and FoxPhile. Cover Art designed by WriterFreak001.

Walter O’Brien did not recall ever being particularly conscious of his sense of smell. 

 

He was aware that Janice nearly always wore some sort of light perfume.  It was flowery, with an undertone of citrus. But it neither pleased nor displeased him.  It was just another of the minute details in his vast memory that were filed under the label “Janice”.  Memories that he would now lock into the vault labelled “Past”.  He rarely visited that vault, even though he was unable to truly forget its contents. 

 

The boy’s mother, Paige, did not wear perfume.  Or if she did, it was completely overpowered by the scent of tuna fish, stale grease, peanut butter and something else that clung to her.  Walter realized she had changed out of her waitress uniform, but the clinging smell was evidence that she had not showered since their adventures of the afternoon.  As he walked into the small living area to join Ralph on the couch, the scent brought back memories.  He recalled that the sense of smell is more closely linked to memory than any of the other senses.

 

_“Hey!  Please check your language around my nine-year-old!”_

 

Walter had called her a good mother – and she was.  Paige, he was sure, would defend her son like the best of predatory mothers in the animal kingdom – lions and tigers and bears.  He remembered his own mother, the day the Americans came to find Scorpion.  Both his parents stood hugging each other, cowed with fear as armed soldiers took him from his home in handcuffs when he was just a bit older than Ralph.  He might not ever forgive Cabe Gallo for what eventually happened, but he wondered what might have happened to him had the Special Agent not come in and rescued him that day. 

 

Paige called him Einstein.  She wasn’t aware that comparing someone with a 197 IQ to Albert Einstein was tantamount to insult.  He forgave her.  She was working with the only information available to her.  Just as she was working with the information – undoubtedly provided by some public school counselor – that her son was “challenged”. 

 

_“I’m smart enough to know that you’re scared. You don’t know how to solve the problem and you’re terrified because people will die.”_

 

She’d been smart enough to see through his barriers to the heart of his biggest fear.  She’d been brave enough to overcome her own fears to help him surpass the greater good and achieve what seemed impossible.  He’d never told anyone about Baghdad.  He didn’t know why he felt comfortable talking to Paige about it, but he was very happy that he found a way not only to improve her life and that of her son, but to keep them both in his own life. 

 

Ralph, he noticed, was freshly bathed and wearing clean, nearly new pajamas.  The space cadet motif reminded him nostalgically of his favorite sweater from when he was about the same age.  Walter glanced around the room, noting the small table and chair that served as a desk.  He hoped Paige would accept the job he offered her, and that the steady income would allow her to purchase a laptop for Ralph.  He thought he might buy the boy a chess set, but he would ask his mother first.  He knew that people sometimes perceived gifts as insulting.  It was yet another element of social interaction that he did not comprehend.  

 

 

Walter sat nervously fidgeting on the couch while Paige took Ralph down the hall to tuck him into bed.  He was perfectly comfortable playing video games with a nine year old genius, but the thought of being alone with the twenty something waitress – even for a few moments - made him sweat.  It was not a sensation he’d ever experienced before.  As Paige observed earlier, it was a problem he didn’t know how to solve and that terrified him, even though he was fairly certain no one would die. 

 

“He’s all tucked in and pretending to sleep,” announced Paige when she returned to the room, collapsing onto the couch.  Exhaustion was etched into the slump of her shoulders and the persistent smell that spoke of a woman too tired to shower; who only changed clothes because she hoped to be able to wear the same outfit a second day and save on laundry and ironing. 

 

“You’re tired,” Walter said as he began to rise.  “I should probably be going.”

 

“No, wait,” she pleaded, placing a hand lightly on his forearm. 

 

Walter’s flinch was minute, but she obviously sensed it because she snatched her hand away. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, “You mentioned that Ralph can’t process physical contact.  I don’t mean to get too personal, but do you have the same problem?”

 

Walter sat back down, clasping his hands on his knees.  “You can’t get too personal with me, I have no feelings to hurt.  But to answer your question, yes, I’m not comfortable with physical contact.”

 

“I don’t believe that.”

 

Walter looked up, ready to argue.

 

“No – no,” she continued, “I believe that you don’t like being touched, and I’ll try to respect that.  But I don’t believe you don’t have feelings.”  She held up a hand to forestall him.  “I saw you get angry and frustrated and scared today.  Those are all feelings.  You also have compassion, despite your greater good theory.  You can be hurt, Walter O’Brien, you just don’t want to be so you’ve convinced yourself that you can’t.”  She brought her hand down, hovered for a moment over his leg, and then brought it back to rest in her lap. 

 

Walter was suddenly assaulted with a wave of feelings.  Regret and confusion he could identify.  He regretted admitting his touch phobia to Paige, because right now he wished she hadn’t hesitated about laying her hand on his leg, but he was confused as to why that might be.  He also recognized an even greater hope that she would accept his offer.  Normally he could care less about connecting with normal people or getting to know them.  At best, when they were clients, they were a source of income.  At worst they were a distraction and an impediment to his ability to work efficiently.  He wanted to learn all he could about Paige Dineen – and her son. 

 

There was another feeling he couldn’t identify.  It was unfamiliar, but it seemed like a good feeling.  He recognized that the feeling was, on some level, stimulated by the young woman sitting beside him, and that it caused him to notice some of her outwardly pleasing physical attributes.  Walter cataloged those, together with the observations about her he’d made earlier that day.  He filed it all together with the feeling in his memory so that he could examine it more fully later. 

 

“Walter….Walter!”

 

The distracted genius shook his head and focused on the woman’s eyes, which were deep brown and warm, but sparked with a note of anger.  “I’m sorry, I was…focused…in my own mind.  It happens sometimes.”

 

“You were focused, all right – on my chest and I don’t appreciate it,” she challenged.  “I was thinking that maybe because you’re a genius you might be different, but I guess I was wrong!”

 

“No, no – you were right,” Walter explained, “I am different.  I mean I…I don’t do that.  I may have seemed focused on your…” he waved a hand in front of her, then continued, “…and what I…what I was looking at would be registered in my brain but in reality I was not really seeing what I was looking at.  I was processing observations.”

 

Paige cocked her head, causing her messy pony tail to bounce around her shoulders.  “You know, I think I believe you,” she admitted.  “Are…are all geniuses like you?”

 

Even Walter could tell that the young mother was concerned about her son.  “No, no,” he assured her, “not at all, although we all have what you might term eccentricities.”  He went on to explain further.  “As I’ve told you, I have a very low EQ.  Sly, on the other hand, is a walking time-bomb of emotions and insecurities, along with his OCD.  Toby I haven’t quite figured out, but since he’s a behavioral therapist, he does a good job of faking normal emotions, so we may never know about him.  He is, however, what I believe is termed a ‘horn dog’ and he apparently has a hat fetish.  Happy has anger management issues, but other than that, she doesn’t let her feelings show, so I’m not too sure about her, either.  We all sometimes retreat into our own heads when we’re working out a problem.”  He paused, seeing from her face that he failed to reassure Paige.  He wished he could make her feel better, but he was not equipped to be anything but honest.  “Ralph will likely have emotional issues as well.  You can be the most supportive mother in the world, but he will still be exposed to people who don’t understand who and what he is and they will make life difficult for him.  Those difficulties will affect him.  But we’ve all been through that and we can at the very least help you prepare him for it.”

 

Paige nodded.  She looked thoughtful for a moment, then a faint smile curled her lips.  Lips that Walter found himself staring at, only this time he didn’t have the excuse of being zoned out inside his own head. 

 

“Okay.”  She reached behind the sofa to the small table that held a few decorative items and a basket of mail.   She picked up the papers Walter had given her earlier.  Unfolding them, she paused, apparently re-reading the details.  “So when do you want me to report for work…and where?  Do you have an office downtown or something?”

 

Walter grinned.  He was surprised at just how thrilled he was.  “No – not an office,” he confessed. “It’s more like…well, it’s a converted garage.”  He hurried to continue when he saw her eyes grow wide. “But it gives us lab room to work on stuff and we have an office area where we have desks.  We also have excellent technology.  With the government money, we’ll be able to afford some upgrades.”

 

“All right, then.”  Paige picked up a pen from the table and flattened the paper out, signing her name at the bottom.

 

“Wait a minute.” Walter waved his hand over the paper.  He couldn’t believe he was stopping her from doing the one thing he most wanted her to do.  “Don’t you want to consult a lawyer, first?”

 

“Mr. O’Brien,” she said, “Right now I’m getting by on tips from two different waitress jobs that keep me away from my son for over eighty hours each week.  I have a crappy old car that threatens to fall apart every other week and we live in this tiny apartment in a section of town that is safe enough, but doesn’t have the best schools.  You’re telling me that Ralph is a genius so I’m thinking I need to get him into a better educational environment and I really want to give him a better home and make sure he’s safe when I drive him back and forth to whatever school I can get him into.”  She waved at the paper, still lying on the table.  “The money you’ve offered here can pay for all that, and even if I occasionally have to work around the clock on a case, I’ll have much more normal hours most of the time.  I might even get a chance to spend whole weekends with Ralph AND you’ve stipulated that I can bring him to your offices any time I like.”  She picked up the pen again, finished her signature and handed the document back.  “Even if I could afford a lawyer right now, which I cannot, this is a no-brainer.  I accept your offer and all I need to know is, since you work in a garage, should I spend my first paycheck on some coveralls?”

 

Walter stared blankly at her, then at her signature on the paper in his hand, then back up, finding his eyes landing once more on her full lips.  He noted that, although her face was free of any makeup, and she was obviously over tired; she was beautiful.  He wondered what she would look like with adequate sleep and the time and money to enhance her looks with nicer clothes and perhaps the services of a professional hair stylist.  Once again, he shook his head, shocked that thoughts like that even entered into his brain. 

 

“All…all right,” he stammered, folding the papers and leaning forward to tuck them into his back pocket.   “You have the certified check from today’s case, so I’m hoping you can expedite giving notice to your current employer…employers,” he said, emphasizing the “s”.  “Do you think you’ll be able to start next Monday?”

 

The blond smiled and nodded.  “I’ll be there, bright and early!”

 

“Uh…not too early.  I live in the loft upstairs and when I wake up early I come downstairs to work before the rest of the team arrives.”  He caught the quizzical look.  “I come downstairs in what I sleep in…which is nothing.  But don’t tell Sly that – he’ll douse my chair in so much Purell I’ll wind up getting stuck to the seat or sliding off.”

 

It was Paige’s turn to stare, until she burst into a fit of laughing.  Walter smiled, not sure what was so amusing, but hoping he could find out, since he liked the sound of her laugh.  “I um…I suppose I can start wearing a robe or something.  Or maybe just get dressed before I come down,” he said. 

 

Paige continued to laugh, but finally stopped and took a deep breath.  “Don’t worry about it,” she assured him, “if I decide to come in early, I’ll be sure to call first.  I wouldn’t want to embarrass you,” she giggled. 

 

“Oh – you wouldn’t…”

 

“I know – I wouldn’t embarrass you because you don’t feel things like embarrassment.”  She smiled at him, then surprised him by reaching out and brushing a curl off his forehead.  “Oh – I’m sorry,” she gasped, “I promised I wouldn’t do that.”

 

“It’s…it’s okay,” he admitted, “I…I actually didn’t mind it.”  He rose again, and thrust a hand out, intending to shake to seal their agreement. 

 

Paige reached up, took his hand, and rising to join him, adjusted her grip and pumped her arm up and down firmly.  “Okay, then,” she declared.  “I guess we have a deal.”

 

Walter found himself reluctant to relinquish his hold, but realized the prolonged contact was getting awkward.  He gently let go and turned towards the door.  “I really should be going,” he repeated, making his way around the sofa and back towards the tiny entrance area.  “You’re obviously tired and I’m sure Ralph will have you up early tomorrow.”  He turned to grin back at her and was pleased to see she was following.  “Plus, you’ll need to go shopping for those overalls,” he joked, “Not a requirement, but it’s actually not a bad idea.  Happy likes to bring her engines and other mechanical projects into the office and sometimes there’s grease…”

 

Paige nodded, mirroring his amusement.  “Noted.  I’ll put that on my shopping list.  I assume I’ll be meeting clients so I’ll need a more professional wardrobe anyway.  Although it might not be very diverse at first,” she cautioned.  “I’ve got ideas for things to buy for Ralph that could go through that check and about two more of its friends if I allow myself to indulge.”  She chuckled. 

 

They reached the door and Walter turned to face her.  On an impulse, he reached out and took her hands in his.  It felt odd, but not unpleasant.  He found himself fixated on her lips again, and began to lean towards her.  The questioning look in her eyes brought him up short.  What was he doing?  This was not like him!  Walter O’Brien did not kiss women that he had only just hired.  For that matter, Walter O’Brien rarely kissed women at all.  Even Janice, he counted exactly four times that he had initiated a kiss; and those were only because he knew it was expected.  If his comfort level with casual physical contact was low, his comfort level with the sort of intimate contact that kissing represented was below ground level.  The evidence, however, suggested that some part of him wanted to kiss Paige Dineen regardless of how insanely inappropriate that was.  He dropped her hands as if they had turned to fire.  Stammering, he tried to ignore what had just happened.

 

“R...Ralph will be just fine,” he assured her, and her face relaxed from her prior astonished look.  “W..w…we can help you find a good school where he’ll get more advanced instruction and you can bring him by after school.”  Paige reached around to open the door, then held it with both hands as he continued.  “Is Ralph interested in astronomy at all?”  He brightened as the thought occurred to him.  Talking about Ralph helped to calm him down from the anxiety caused by his inexplicable behavior.  “We have a pretty great t..t..telescope on the roof of the garage.  It’s high enough to avoid the worst of the ambient light, so we get a pretty good view.  Maybe you and Ralph can stay until after dark sometimes and we can look at the stars together.” 

 

Paige smiled, her eyes focusing on his.  Walter was pleased that she didn’t seem upset about his momentary lapse.  “That sounds like fun,” she agreed.  “I honestly don’t know if Ralph is interested, but I guess we can find out.”

 

“All right then,” Walter repeated, and stepped backwards out the door.  “I guess I’ll see you on Monday, then.”

 

“Bright and early,” she quipped, winking.  Walter nodded and Paige slowly closed the door behind him.

 

As he made his way down the hall, Walter reflected that his life was about to get very interesting.    


	2. Dominoes (Kimberly)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “All I want is you for Christmas.” – Old 97’s “Here It Is Christmas Time”

It had been a while since he had stared at her with such intensity. He was smiling, _truly_ smiling, at her, and the curve of his lips…, the happiness in his eyes…, the lilt in his quiet laugh could have been from all of the excitement… all of the festivities… the dinner… the gaudy, green, light-up sweater… the fake snow as it flurried everywhere…, but Paige could not explain the gentle fire flickering in his eyes.

She didn’t know if it was okay to try…, or if he was ready for her to understand it… assess it… comprehend it, and yet, here she was, staring at him with the same amount of passion, wanting, yearning, _needing_ to know the story masked by the flaming intensity emanating from his gaze.

His smile had died down some, but his eyes never left hers, and he just stood there, staring at her as though nothing else existed. (Not even math and science, chess and telescopes, nor anything else Walter O’Brien usually cared about seemed more important than her in that moment.) She could feel the slow burn radiating from the way his eyes met hers, and she couldn’t deny she wanted more. She wanted so much to properly thank him for everything he had ever done for her and for her son. She wanted to approach him slowly, one step at a time, pausing with each breath, until she was in front of him, weaving her fingers through his thick curls… testing how long he could stare at her without looking away… without turning away… without running away….

But…

She wondered long she could handle him staring at her so intently before _she_ was the one who looked away… who turned away…who ran away…

After all, she had been known to flee from great things, too….

But not because of Ralph or because she had other responsibilities in her life…. She had been burned one too many times, and she was afraid of being burned again… afraid of _feeling_ again…. She was afraid of falling in love with a man who might not love her in return.

Before she met Walter, she had so often distanced herself from the men in her life because her heart couldn’t take any more heartbreak. The pain of being scorched by the man she once loved never really went away. (And she didn’t think it ever would….) 

Through the years, though, she had grown stronger as an individual woman, focusing all of her time and energy being there for Ralph, loving Ralph, and mothering Ralph.

For the longest time, after she realized her ex wasn’t coming back, she didn’t think she needed a man to take care of her. She didn’t think Ralph needed a father figure in his life because he had her, and she was his world as he was hers. She thought they would be okay…, and for a time, they were. Things were hard, and there were times when she spent nights crying her eyes out, but she had her baby boy, and he had her, and she believed, somehow, their lives would be perfectly fine. But she didn’t want fine; she wanted more. She wanted security and financial stability, but at the end of the day, Ralph was what mostly mattered to her so she would give him everything – anything she could afford because she loved him with all of her heart and believed he deserved to have what he wanted.

(He rarely ever wanted much, but when he _did_ want something, she would try her damnedest to give it to him).

(Because seeing him smile, seeing her precious son smile when he barely spoke a word would always make her day (and sometimes make her cry), but at least he smiled at her when she made him feel special).

And Ralph _was_ special.

In more ways than she had ever known.

Their lives had been okay.

Simple, but okay.

And then, out of nowhere, a strange, handsome man, who had claimed he was infinitely smarter than Albert Einstein (which, at first, she thought he was just being overly cocky), told her Ralph was a genius, both her mind and heart were blown away. Remembering those years of thinking her son was challenged… that her son would never fully connect with her… washed over her all at once, and she wanted to cry her eyes out.

Her son was a genius. A genius. She couldn’t be more proud of him.

And that man – Walter O’Brien – had hired her and promised to help her connect with her son, guaranteeing a better future for both of them.  

And their future _was_ better. Infinitely better. And she couldn’t ask for more. Walter had given her and Ralph so much already, but… as he continued watching her, smiling at her, staring at her through the flurries of snow, she couldn’t help but _want_ more… with him.

But beyond her physical attraction to him, she wasn’t entirely sure _what_ that ‘more’ was. She just knew she wanted it… craved it… desired it.

Whatever _it_ was… or could potentially be.

Walter O’Brien was a great man who adored her son, and though she felt a strong connection with him… possessed a strange longing for him…, she didn’t feel worthy of him. There was a big world out there, and the world needed the focus and the undivided attention of Walter O’Brien much more than she did, but her unworthiness still didn’t stop her from wanting… yearning… craving to touch him… run her fingers through his curls, hold him and kiss him and become much more with him.

And that was what hurt the most.

But despite her anguish, she couldn’t help but want him to always look at her like the way he was staring at her now.

Was it such a bad thing to want to be wanted?

Even by a man she knew she could never be with?

Hell if she knew.

Hell if _he_ did, either.

Paige continued to give Walter her undivided attention; she tried reading him, studying him,  figuring him out, piecing his mind together, and at most times, she was actually pretty great at it, but tonight… right now… she couldn’t read beyond the spark in his eyes.

And that, for some unknowable reason, bothered her greatly.

Needing to know… needing to understand... needing to hear his gentle voice accompany those beautiful piercing, brown eyes, she asked the one question she knew he would always answer and never completely deny the truth. “What?”

She was smiling at him casually, never looking away, and he took his time answering her question deliberately. “Nothing,” he shook his head slowly. “Just, um…,” he paused, still holding her gaze, and grinned softly. “Merry Christmas.”

She couldn’t help but smile wider. His smile, his _true_ smile, was a beautiful blessing. A present she often coveted, and she always, _always_ , always smiled back, wanting him to know how much she cherished it increasingly more whenever he would smile at her.

And as he lit the fire inside of her…, as he silently appreciated her… and made her feel valued, and treasured, and wanted in so many different ways, she suppressed the urge to jump him and kiss him and clutch those goddamn curls, realizing, in his eyes, in his beautiful, dark brown, amorous eyes, that she was far more worthy to him than she ever realized.

And he didn’t need to say it nor do anything else to prove it.

His eyes… his gaze… his lips… his smile validated everything.

Perhaps it _wasn’t_ a bad thing. Perhaps the desire of wanting to be desired by Walter O’Brien wasn’t as wrong as she thought.

Maybe someday, if they had a chance, they could make things work.

But for now, she was perfectly fine waiting.

He was worth it.


	3. Charades (Nicole)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 3. Walter wonders if he’s supposed to kiss Paige.

Walter simply didn’t understand how he wasn’t flirting back.

Paige was shifting her body, tossing her hair, giving him a look, which, according to her, was flirting.  Walter had never flirted, but didn’t that mean someone wanted attention?  Wasn’t Paige’s flirting supposed to be sending the message that she wanted him to be unable to notice anything but her?  He was staring at her, focused, giving her all his time.  What exactly was she expecting him to do? Toss _his_ hair?  Her hair was nice.  Her hair fell around her shoulders and glided fluidly with the momentum caused by the movement of her body.  His hair didn’t do that.  He couldn’t think of a single thing to do other than watch her vibe him, whatever that meant.  She had all of his attention, but she wasn’t satisfied.  Maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough – he did find watching her move like that, seeing her eyes occasionally meet his, easy and enjoyable; maybe it was supposed to be difficult? Unpleasant? He tried something else, a more firm stare.  There were other particularly interesting things in the room, a telescope, a spectrometer Happy was fixing, several textbooks, but he wasn’t looking at them.  He was looking at her, and it still, apparently, wasn’t good enough.

She gave up without providing him feedback as to what he was doing wrong.

She warned him that the spy might try to touch him, probably _would_ try to touch him, and he reacted.  “No.  I don’t enjoy contact.”  As soon as the words came out of his mouth, he knew what she was thinking.  _She’s not going to care if you enjoy contact, Einstein.  She’s got a mission just like we do._

He assured her he’d be prepared, which ignited a glint in her eyes, a challenge.  She stepped toward him, closing the distance between them slowly and deliberately, stopping with mere inches between them.

People had stood close to him before.  But not like this.

 _Not like this?_   What the hell did that mean? She was _just standing there_.  But for some reason, Walter felt suddenly different.

And then she _wasn’t_ just standing there.

She was running her hands up his arms, sure, not something that happened every day, but certainly nothing that should be affecting him this much.  Her proximity was making him start to sweat, and he felt that now all too familiar confusion seeping through at the feel of her, at the slow pace that she took up his body.

He wasn’t comfortable with touch; she knew that and he knew that’s _why_ she was touching him; she was helping him prepare to pretend to be seduced by Sima.  He remembered the night they met, regretting that his words had prevented her from resting her hand on his knee, far less intimate contact than they were having now.  Maybe if she had put her hand there that night, he _would_ have flinched. He certainly would have recoiled if she’d done what she was doing now, as utterly fascinating as he’d found her. But as she slid her hands to his neck, as she asked him, repeatedly, if it was okay, he got this suspicious feeling that for all her good intentions, she _wasn’t_ helping him prepare for the mission.  When she touched him, when she ran her hands over him, it wasn’t where she was touching him that felt wrong – it was where she had _just_ touched him, where her hands had just _left_ , that felt the most unpleasant.  His body wasn’t reacting negatively to the contact; the areas her hands had moved on from were _missing_ it.

Walter O’Brien had never been agitated by the _lack_ of someone’s touch and it was throwing him off. A quiet sound came from deep in his throat.

“And if she got...close?”

He already thought she _was_ close.  But suddenly she was closer. Her hands were moving up, and she was everywhere.  Her tone dropped, and so did his eyes.

 _What if this woman tried to kiss him?_   He knew he should be considering the possibility of the spy trying to kiss him, but all he could imagine was the woman in front of him asking _and...and if she did...this?_ and brushing her lips against his, and he knew he wouldn’t mind.  If she closed her lips around one of his, if she applied gentle pressure against his mouth, he knew that he wouldn’t balk.  Everything around him was slowly fading away; Paige in contrast seemed as clear as the next move on a chess board. He remembered explaining to her the night they met that he wasn’t actually staring at her chest, that he was zoning out and processing observations.  This time, he was finding it impossible to do that, to push her presence out of his head while he thought about what was happening, about the mission, about anything else, _he couldn’t do it_.  His eyes were half closed, but she wasn’t putting him to sleep, no, this was as alert and aware of her as he could ever remember being, about _anything_.

“This could happen.”

He wasn’t even sure he knew what she was saying anymore.  He just knew he liked hearing her speak and her lips were close to his and he found himself waiting, wanting her to suggest that maybe this spy may try this, may try to press her mouth to his and catch his lips between her own and kiss him absolutely senseless and _could you handle that, Walter? How about we see? For the good of the mission?_  

He wondered if maybe he should try kissing Paige.  She had told him to _pick up her vibe and return it_ , to act as if he was interested, and if they weren’t playacting right now, if he didn’t know better, he would genuinely believe that Paige Dineen was thinking about kissing him.  Of course she _wasn’t_ thinking about that – she didn’t think about him that way – but she was doing a good job of putting on a front, such a good job.

He came back to himself then, clearing his throat, declaring that no matter what this spy threw at him, he would be ready.  He would be.  He had to be – it was impossible to be more unsure than he was right now, even if anything that happened tonight would be in a different way.

He knew if the spy tried to touch him, it would make him uncomfortable.  But he’d manage.

He watched Paige go.  If he had to, he’d just pretend she was her.  Because he knew, now, that he could certainly handle that.


	4. Love Boat (Kimberly)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Walter… Don’t.” – Paige Dineen

Today was extra dicey. A lot of things – a lot of horrible, unimaginable things – could have easily gone differently with one wrong move…, one wrong word…, one wrong course of action. She could have been killed. She could have been taken. She could have been home, crying her eyes out because they could have taken _him_ instead.

A lot had happened today, and Paige Dineen was still jittery. Her heart was _still_ beating fast, and she was sure she wasn’t going to be able to sleep tonight, but despite the things that _could_ have happened, despite the things that _did_ happen, she was grateful for everything working out in the end.

But… there were things that had happened which puzzled her greatly, and she needed Walter O’Brien to explain them to her. The sooner, the better. Otherwise, he may never tell her. Having – more like _forcing_ – Walter to explain _anything_ potentially EQ related was like pulling teeth…, but it certainly wasn’t impossible.

At least, not for her.

Paige leaned against the side of the boat and watched the other passengers file off, one by one. She was on her way to give her statement, but something about the view… something about watching people hugging and kissing and interacting with their loved ones after the ordeal today made her stop for a moment and observe the power love had over people.

It was an amazing sight to behold, and she just wished a certain genius could see it for himself.

Love _is_ real, and she hoped, one day, he would see that it _does_ exist… that it _does_ affect people… that it isn’t just junk science….

Off in the distance, a young boy – probably close to Ralph’s age – was looking at the stars through a small telescope with his father (presumably) kneeling behind him and pointing in various directions. She couldn’t help but smile at the pair; they reminded her so much of her two favorite geniuses. Though the rest of the team was oblivious to it, Walter and Ralph often spent many nights on the roof, studying the stars. Paige would usually lounge on a chair and read a book or routinely guard the abandoned chess game while secretly watching the two geniuses interact. It was always a very pleasant sight, and she always, _always_ looked forward to their next planned astronomy meeting.

(Because those were the nights her son smiled and laughed the most.)

(And those nights made parenting worth everything.)

But today, she could have lost all of that…, and her son – her precious, baby boy – could have also lost his mentor, as well (because she was certain they would have killed her anyway – despite Walter’s heroics).

(And that deeply bothered her.)

As she slowly descended from the cruise, she saw Walter O’Brien standing still, in his own little world, and staring off into space. She quietly giggled and approached him, one step at a time, and smiled when he noticed her. “I thought cruise ships were supposed to be relaxing,” she said casually, in no hurry for him to answer.

“They are,” Walter nodded swiftly. “I’ll just call it the, uh, Neptune Effect. Its repetitive rhythmic audio patterns and reduced visual stimuli on the ocean,” he yawned deeply, “allow the brain to, um…,” he smacked his lips together and sloppily waved his hand in circles as though he could magically summon the words he was trying to use. “You know what, I’m… I’m ju—,” he quietly laughed, “I’m too tired to be smart right now.”

Paige smiled warmly and chuckled softly. “Good.” She leaned towards him and tilted her face slightly. “But I do have one question for you. I promise it’s simple.” She paused for a moment and gazed into his tired eyes, hoping he wouldn’t stop her. When he didn’t say anything, she continued and took another step towards him. “Why did you trade places with me today?”

Walter grinned softly. “… I don’t understand.”

Paige gave him a pointed look, knowing he was lying. “You understand the Neptune effect, so you absolutely understand my question.” She paused again as his smile faded, and watched him carefully, wondering how a man smarter than Albert Einstein could be so easy to read sometimes. “Your greater-good analysis would _never_ approve of you swapping your life for a waitress’s… So…,” Paige softly bit her lip, “why?”

Walter glanced down at his feet and loudly cleared his throat before answering. “I thought it would be a good idea to slow, um, Christoph’s escape if I was with him.”

Paige cocked an eyebrow and eyed him suspiciously. “You had a plan?”

“No,” he shook his head slowly and laughed quietly. “But… But I’m pretty good at coming up with things on the fly.”

“Clearly,” Paige sighed and flashed a frown before forcing a soft grin. “Well…,” she pinned her lower lip under her teeth and, ever so slightly, leaned closer to him. “Thank you for saving my life.”

As a slow grin colored Walter’s lips, she angled herself towards him and opened her mouth to say something else when her cellphone blasted loudly from her purse. She inhaled sharply and took a step backwards as she fished through her purse for her phone. “It’s Ralph,” she waved her phone at him, and he gave her a slight nod before she spun around and stepped away. “Hi Ralph.”

* * *

“They would have killed you, you know?”

“Hm?”

Paige inhaled a deep breath and angled herself towards Walter as he parked her car outside the garage. She took off her seatbelt and tucked an ankle underneath her leg as she flipped her hair away from her face. “They would have killed you… Once they were where they needed to be, you would have been a liability. A thorn on their side. They would have killed you.”

Walter was silent for a moment but eventually spoke. “I know.”

“Then why?” Paige frowned, “Why knowingly risk your life for mine?”

Walter pursed his lips as he turned towards her. “Because I knew they would have killed you once they were given the chance, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

“But they probably would have killed me anyway… As soon as they were far enough, they would have tested one of those rockets on the boat.” Paige paused as she tried to read his piercing eyes. “Your heroics would have been in vain.”

“A-Actually,” Walter smirked, “they already tested a rocket _while_ we were on the boat. There would have been no need to test another. It would’ve been wasteful.”

“Walter,” she frowned with cutting eyes.

“Okay. I see your point, but they weren’t in vain, and e-everything worked out,” Walter crossed his arms and angled himself towards her. “Nothing _bad_ happened.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Paige nodded in agreement. “Everything _did_ work out, and nothing bad technically happened, but…,” she let her thought trail, unsure if she should continue.

“But what?”

She remained silent and inhaled a deep breath and then released it slowly.

“But what, Paige?”

“But,” she swallowed thickly, “that doesn’t negate the fact that we could have died today.”

Walter straightened his back and cocked his brow as he looked at her. “We’ve been in dangerous situations before, Paige. Life-threatening situations. Where is all of this coming fro—”

“I had a gun to my head, Walter. A gun.” she released a shaky breath and blinked back the tears in her eyes. 

Walter frowned with a hint of guilt, and she could tell he was just as troubled by the horrible memory as she was. “I know….”

“He could have killed me. He _would_ have killed me.”

“I know.”

“How… How do I get past something like that?” Paige nearly choked on her words as she tried not to break down in front of Walter. “H-How can I act as though it didn’t happen? O-or look into Ralph’s eyes and pretend that it didn’t?”

“I…,” Walter looked away from her and stared at the steering wheel. “I don’t know.”

“Of course you wouldn’t know. How _could_ you know?” Paige muttered under her breath, and she could tell she inadvertently made him feel even guiltier. “I’m sorry,” she pinned her bottom lip inward and ached to cover his hand with hers. “That wasn’t fair.”

The genius was silent for many minutes. Then, eventually, he spoke. “I was scared too, Paige.” The woman snapped her attention to his as he slowly turned to face her. “I almost lost it when I heard how scared you were…, and I _would_ have lost it too, if it wasn’t for Cabe. I was prepared to blow this entire operation for you, and Cabe knew it too…. Not being near you and hearing you plead for your life made me feel like I was being handcuffed all over again, and I panicked. My hand was shaking, and I wanted to break something because of how angry I was at myself for not being there to protect you.”

Paige’s lips parted in response to his admission, and she inhaled another deep breath. “Walter….”

He looked away from her as though he was guilty for feeling so weak. “Being scared like that… that’s… that’s never happened to me before…,” his hand started to visibly shake, “and I don’t like how it felt.”  

“Hey,” Paige instinctively enclosed his shaking hand inside her palms and gently tugged him towards her, encouraging him to look into her eyes again. “It’s okay,” she whispered softly, trying to soothe him, her worries suddenly forgotten. “I’m okay now. Because of you,” she smiled warmly as she brought her palms to his face and caressed his cheeks, “I’m okay.”

She itched to kiss him… to thank him fully for saving her life… to hold him in her arms and tell him, repeatedly, that she was okay and safe. She wanted so much to assure him… in some way… that it wasn’t his fault for what _almost_ happened… for what _could_ have happened. He needed to know she didn’t blame him, either. She could never blame him.

“Walter?” Paige muttered his name softly as her fingers grazed over his hairline. He closed his eyes as though he was welcoming her ministrations and then mumbled an incoherent response. “You know it’s not your fault, right?”

“I know,” he nodded slowly as he opened his eyes and gazed deeply into hers.

“Good,” she muttered quietly as a colorful smile reached her eyes. In spite of her strong desire to kiss him and hold him and weave her fingers into his wild, crazy curls, she playfully smacked the man’s cheeks instead and then gently pushed herself away from him. She propped the car door open and smiled warmly. “I’m glad.” And as she left the man sitting in her vehicle, she sauntered towards the garage and happily greeted her son, excited for tomorrow night’s dinner with her boss.


	5. Young Hearts Spark Fire (Heidi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The heart is a circulatory muscle.” – Walter O’Brien

Walter agreed with Toby on one point – he didn’t like Drew either.  But he did not see that as a reason to entertain the behaviorist’s so-called theory that Walter had feelings for Paige.  The idea was not only preposterous, it was potentially damaging to the team.  The genius was aware of Toby’s persistent, but so far unsuccessful, pursuit of Happy Quinn.  He would have to speak to his friend about that issue soon.  Even if – perhaps especially if - feelings were present, workplace relationships had the potential to wreak havoc, and he was not about to tolerate that sort of disruption – not from Toby, and not from himself. 

 

Toby’s assertion that Walter gave Paige special treatment in the helicopter due to those hypothetical feelings was equally preposterous.  Paige had a young child who depended on her.  Walter was unencumbered by such responsibilities.  It was simple logic to give Paige the greater chance of survival.  It had nothing to do with his feelings for her. 

 

Looking at Paige, though, after their plume of green smoke began to fade along with their last hope of rescue, Walter found himself questioning his convictions.  In that moment, he knew he needed to reach out to her, to let her know how he felt.  He couldn’t put his arm around her, as the young, nearly engaged couple did.  Neither could he manage to make a dramatic declaration as Toby had.  In that moment, though, he was sure she knew.  As he lightly touched her hand with his, she reciprocated, enfolding her fingers around his own.  Walter would never know for sure, but he believed that had they been left out there, with deadly fire surrounding them, he would have found the courage to take her in his arms, whisper his love, and kiss her softly. 

 

He’d come perilously close to disaster.  And he wasn’t thinking of the fire. 

 

 _“Ridiculous…”_ he told Cabe later.  _“…one man’s belief in romantic love destroys a helicopter, 400 acres of forest, nearly kills a dozen people.”_

 

 _“Spoken like someone who’s never been in love.  I hope that changes for you one day, pal,”_ was the agent’s response. 

 

In this particular chess game, Walter O’Brien renewed his determination to never tip his king. 

 

* * *

 

“Good Morning, Paige.” Walter greeted his liaison when she entered the garage.  He had called her the previous evening and asked her to come in a bit early.  “Wou... would you join me on the roof?  I..I think we need to have a... um… a private conversation.”

 

Not waiting for her agreement, Walter bounded up the stairway two steps at a time. 

 

* * *

 

Walter nervously tinkered with the telescope while he waited for Paige.  There was nothing to see in the daytime, of course.  When they first got the instrument, Toby sometimes came up in the early morning or late evening and directed it towards the converted loft apartments in the neighborhood.  Walter wasn’t sure what his interest was, but apparently it had waned in recent months.  Other than the occasional team party, these days Toby only came up to the roof occasionally, usually with Happy.

 

Glancing at his watch, the genius wondered how long he’d been waiting.  It seemed like several minutes, although he supposed the actual time was less and it was only his anxiety making it seem longer.  He wasn’t sure if the wait was to his advantage or not.  He began to pace. 

 

Despite his long conviction to the contrary, Walter wondered if there might be something to this business of romantic love.  He knew he’d felt _something_ for Paige out in the middle of that conflagration.  But was it really so very different from the concern he had for Megan, or for his other friends?  He cocked his head and grinned to himself.  It certainly wasn’t Toby that he’d linked fingers with in the face of impending doom.  He’d also been unable to bring himself to erase the stick figure representations of Paige and himself or the stylized heart that surrounded them. 

 

“You ran up here so fast, I figured you might want a cup of coffee.” 

 

Walter turned, surprised that he hadn’t heard the door or the sound of heels clicking across the bare concrete of the roof.   “Thank you, yes I..I haven’t had any yet today.”  He took the steaming cup and took a grateful sip.  He was used to the cinnamon now, although it was a taste he’d had to acquire. 

 

“I figured as much, since the pot was empty and cold.  Are you okay, Walter?  I’ve never known you not to have coffee made by this time in the morning.” 

 

Although there was a scatter of tables and chairs around the roof, Walter took his coffee over to the railing and set it down there.  He looked out at the traffic in the street below while he tried to come up with an appropriate way to say what he wanted to say. 

 

“I..um.. I wanted to make sure you were all right… I mean, after everything… everything that happened.” 

 

Paige chuckled and joined him.  “Well, I’d prefer not to spend another day trying to escape a major forest fire, if it’s all the same to you; and it might be another week or so before I get the smell of smoke out of my hair; but I think I’m all right.”

 

“I..um.. that’s not… I mean things got really intense out there.”  Walter turned.  Staring at the traffic wasn’t working, but he didn’t think he could do this and look into her beautiful eyes, so he stared off to one side, and began counting the rows of vinyl strapping on the chairs.

 

“It was a big fire.  I may be a little bit crazy, but I think I’m getting used to a bit of danger in my life.  I might even like it.” 

 

In his peripheral vision, Walter noted that she was looking at him with a note of concern that belied her joking comments.  This wasn’t going well at all. 

 

“I’m not talking about the fire so much as…well… people… people sometimes do stupid things in… in the heat of battle you might say.  Things happen… people do things they might not ever do if… if the situation weren’t so… so charged.” 

 

Paige set her coffee cup down beside Walter’s and reached out to lay a soft hand on his arm.  “I’m sorry, I’m not following you.  Are you sure you’re okay?”

 

Walter stared at the slender fingers on his arm.  The nail polish was still a little streaky, but he knew now it was more because it had become a little ritual with Paige and Ralph.  Ralph no longer had any issues being affectionate with his mother.  But he still had no skill with a brush.  Stealing himself, he raised his eyes to look into hers while moving his arm out from under her hand.  To cover the awkwardness of the move, he reached out and retrieved his cup, cradling the base in one hand while the forefingers of the other curled through the small handle.   

 

“People do stupid things.  Like what Toby said to Happy, or that kid proposing to his girlfriend even though they nearly died.”

 

“Don’t you think he might have done that **_because_** they nearly died?” Her eyes flashed with a mixture of confusion, frustration and budding anger.    

 

“Albert Einstein was married twice, you know.”  Walter absently scraped the edge of his coffee cup with his thumbnail.  “But he was in love with someone else through most of his first marriage. He was unhappy with his wife, but they’d been good friends before they married.  Maybe if he’d just stayed friends with her, he would have been happier.”

 

“Walter, you are making zero sense.” 

 

“I’m… I’m just saying that… that people sometimes do stupid things and… and things can sometimes be… be misinterpreted.  I wouldn’t want anything that happened in… in the moment… to be misinterpreted.”  He looked in vain for understanding in those eyes, but saw none.  “I’m just saying that friendship is a solid thing.  And it would be natural for friends to… to reach out to each other… in certain situations.”

 

Paige nodded and Walter took a moment to take a calming breath.  Perhaps she was beginning to understand.  Then she reached out and took the coffee cup from his hand and set it back down on the railing next to hers.  She stepped close, closer than he was normally comfortable with, even with her.  He noticed she was wearing one of those short, flirty skirts that emphasized the length of her legs, together with a pair of spike-heeled boots.  He was standing with his back to the railing, with no way to step back and widen the distance between them.  Still, it wasn’t as if she was really in his personal space… not yet.  She stood for a moment, then reached a hand up very slowly, placing a it lightly behind his neck.

 

“So if I reach out to you… like this…” she whispered. 

 

He felt her finger the collar of his shirt.  He guessed it must have turned up in the light breeze, because she folded it down and stroked it with her fingers, smoothing the fabric along his shoulder blade.  He shivered. 

 

“… that’s just a… **_friendly_** gesture…right?”

 

A ghost of a smile was playing on her lips.  He knew this because he’d been staring at her lips from the moment she took the first step toward him.  They were less than an arm’s length from his own.  With her heels, she was only about an inch or two shorter than he.  All he would have to do is lean over and their lips would meet.  He realized he was shaking with the effort not to move. 

 

A strand of her soft, blond hair strayed across her mouth, but apparently she was unaware of it.  Walter was not.  His fingers itched to reach over and tuck the strand behind her ear, leaving her lips once more free for the taking. 

 

He was so occupied with staring at that strand of hair that he failed to notice her other hand lift up to his forehead where her fingers combed through the curls blown there, smoothing them back along his temple. 

 

“And that is just one friend, reaching out to another, right?”

 

Walter gulped and nodded.  “Ru… ru… right.”

 

She dropped both hands to her sides and took a step back.  “Well then, I guess we both know how friends can reach out to each other, don’t we?” 

 

With a quick turn of her heel, she pivoted and made her way to the door.  Within seconds, she was out of sight.  A lingering scent of lavender was all that let Walter know she’d even been there.  His nostrils flared as he breathed it in. 


	6. Satellite of Love (Nicole)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paige couldn't get their kiss out of her head.

She kept still for a minute or two, the door providing some level of stabilization.  Her head had literally been in the clouds earlier in the day, but now she felt as if it was there again.  She let out another deep breath, usually an effective tactic to get her heart to stop racing, to stop her legs from feeling like jelly, whenever she was exhilarated, tired, or nervous. 

It was less effective than usual tonight.  Tonight it wasn’t fading away.

She had to stop again when she reached her car, leaning over and resting her arms on the hood, tipping her head down until it touched her fists.  She took in another deep breath, letting it out slowly, hoping that he wasn’t watching through the window. 

Walter’s lips were no longer on her own, but she could still feel the kiss in every atom in her body.  She was winded, as if she’d just run up several flights of stairs, but not fatigued.  The day had been long, but it was as if she’d been refueled, revitalized.

Energy drinks could say whatever they wanted; they had _nothing_ on what had just happened.  That awkward, rambling, clumsy genius who, for being smarter than usual standard Albert Einstein and able to pick up on her son’s chess game after mere minutes had no idea what to do with his hands, had quickly and almost effortlessly made her weak in the knees.

She got into her car, locking the doors immediately behind her and tossing her purse onto the passenger seat.  It bounced off the box she had for Ralph, holding his replacement telescope lens, and she heard it hit the floor.  She’d get it later.

She checked the locks again.  It wasn’t that she didn’t feel safe outside the garage, but tonight she felt emotionally exposed, vulnerable to the outside world.  Anyone who saw her right now would surely know how her head was spinning and if they spoke to her they’d pick up on the fact that she wasn’t sure that she could remember half of what she and Walter had stammered back and forth once he’d pulled away.  She knew they’d been talking about the kiss, about what they thought, about how their feelings had been crazy, but exact words? She remembered blurting something out about _intense chemistry_ , but she couldn’t come up with anything else.

Pulling out into traffic, Paige reached over and turned the radio on.

_“I ain’t anywhere close to tired; your kiss has got me wired.”_

Paige reached over and turned the radio off.

She knew how she felt about Walter O’Brien before tonight.  She’d been there once or twice before.  But she’d never had to hide it before, never had to deal with the possibility that maybe, not only did he not feel the same way, he wasn’t _capable_ of feeling the same way.  Despite convincing herself that it was probably for the best if her feelings weren’t reciprocated, she still felt her heart skip a beat up there in that weather balloon when Walter admitted to having similar feelings for her. 

The _sheer adrenaline_ that shot through her when his lips were on hers, she closed her eyes briefly, shaking her head.  She’d been kissed before.  She’d been kissed _well_ before.  The heat rushing through her body, the ache in her lower abdomen that was currently frustrating as hell because nothing was being done about it, all of that was familiar.  That she was prepared for, even hoping for, when she’d leaned in toward Walter, letting her eyes fall closed.  She’d been wondering since January what it might be like to kiss him, and the butterflies in her stomach when she realized it was going to happen were both pleasant and uneasy – what if the kiss _didn’t_ ignite something within her?

She knew he was well aware that she was lying when she told him she’d felt nothing.  She knew he was lying when he said he didn’t either.  She knew they were both taken by surprise at how powerful their chemistry was.  She knew she’d been just a few seconds away from trying to drag him the remaining distance to her desk, to grabbing his hands and putting them on her hips, and the only reason she’d been a little less than completely frustrated when he’d pulled away was she had no idea what she wanted more, to keep feeling the exhilaration of his mouth on hers or seeing if his lips might wander.

None of _that_ surprised her.

What _did_ startle her was, as much as she wanted to feel his lips on her neck, her chest, her stomach, as much as she wanted his hands running over her, exploring her, holding her against him, she was affected this much by mere seconds of them having _no point of contact_ aside from their lips. 

That had never happened before.  She’d never gotten like this over so little.

She bit her lower lip, watching the road.

_Imagine how it would be if..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Note: We hope you enjoyed reading our collaboration! If you – let us know. Comments are welcome!


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